“Oh, Lizzy, it is all extremely refined and sophisticated. The guests are so very polished and stylish, and their elegant attire is certainly all the crack.”

Elizabeth was preoccupied with attempting to espy a certain gentleman and said, “Yes, but fashion is something that goes in one era and out the other.” Because she was comparatively petite, Elizabeth stood on tiptoes and craned her neck to look over the milling crowd. “Do you happen to see the Darcy family yet, Jane?”

A liveried footman took their cloaks; and as the Bennet sisters waited their turn in the receiving line, lively Charles Bingley approached and bowed. “Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, what a delight it is to see you both again. Miss Bennet, I confess I have been anticipating your arrival in the hope of securing at least one set. If you are not otherwise engaged, may I request the honour of standing up with you for the first? And Miss Elizabeth, may I have the pleasure of the second set, as well as a moment of your time for a brief conversation before we enter the ballroom?” When the ladies expressed their consent to all his requests, the fellow smiled broadly, bowed again, and walked to the entrance to await Elizabeth.

It was then their turn to be received by the evening’s hosts and hostesses. Jane and Lizzy were presented to the Earl of Matlock and Lady Rebecca before being introduced to the Earl’s eldest son, James, the Viscount Wentletrap, and his wife, Lady Isabelle. After making the acquaintance of the Earl’s niece, Miss Anne de Bourgh, the rest of the party was already well known to the Bennet sisters.

Next in line was Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam in his dazzling red uniform, and Elizabeth supported her sister’s arm as Jane took an unsteady step forward to curtsy and receive his courtly bow. “Miss Bennet, I skipped a heartbeat upon first sight of your loveliness tonight; and I expect your dance card is already filled. If not, may I request the first set?” When Jane informed him she was already engaged for the first, he requested the supper set; and she accepted. He then boldly asked whether her final dance was already spoken for and was elated to be able to secure that one as well, especially since he knew it was a waltz. The striking officer then requested Miss Elizabeth’s first and was surprised to learn his cousin had not snatched her up for the opening set. He was very pleased with himself for having been granted the good fortune of standing up with two such beautiful women.

The Bennet sisters then moved on to the co-hosting family; and Elizabeth felt, before she even saw, Fitzwilliam Darcy’s eyes riveted upon her. The debonair gentleman was impeccably attired in a double-breasted black cutaway tailcoat and trousers. His silver and gold brocade waistcoat was square-cut at the waist, and a snowy silk cravat was artfully tied over the high collar of his white linen shirt. In Lizzy’s opinion, the irresistibly handsome Fitzwilliam Darcy was a swell of the first stare and could easily shine down everyone else; and she only had eyes for him.

Jane and Elizabeth were enthusiastically greeted by Georgiana and Anna and warmly so by their parents. Fitzwilliam Darcy politely addressed Miss Bennet, asked to stand up with her, and was granted the third set. When it was her sister’s turn, he boldly kissed her gloved hand and said, “Miss Elizabeth, my love … -ly lady, you are positively breathtaking tonight, as usual. I need not ask whether you are well, for it is plain to see you are the very picture of health and vivacity. The supper set cannot arrive a moment too soon; until then, I hope you will enjoy the evening … but not too much.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, and dimples appeared as he smiled at the woman he loved.

Elizabeth was stunningly beautiful in a gown with a low-cut form-fitting bodice, short puffy sleeves, and gracefully flowing skirt. The dress was a buttery primrose silk encrusted with tiny, shimmering clear glass spangles that caught and reflected the candlelight. A band of narrow braided gold trim was tied under the high waistline, and its tasselled ends cascaded to the hem. She wore white above-the-elbow gloves and a gold chain with a small diamond pendant. Her chestnut curls were elaborately upswept and dressed with ornamental combs, and a ringlet hung charmingly down one side of her neck. Around her wrist she wore a pretty fan and a small beaded reticule that matched the combs. Completing her ensemble, pale yellow embroidered satin slippers peeked from beneath her well-designed dress.

Miss Jane Bennet’s periwinkle blue gown was roller-printed with silver vertical stripes and had a plunging v-neckline. The elegant creation was pleated in the back for fullness and ease of movement, but from the front the slinky silk moulded to her curves as she walked in soft silver slippers. Her blonde hair was intricately entwined with blue ribbons and piled atop her head, with a few ringlets framing her lovely face. Jane’s only accessories were long white gloves, silver earrings and necklace, an ornate fan, and a reticule that matched her gown.

The two ladies headed toward the ballroom. Darcy saw Ellis Fleming step up to them, bow, and begin a brief conversation he assumed would include requests for dances. Fleming then escorted Miss Bennet inside while Bingley offered his arm to her sister. He noticed the latter two in earnest conversation and correctly guessed his friend was profusely apologizing for Caroline’s behaviour. Darcy craned his neck until he lost sight of Elizabeth in the crowd; he sighed and returned his attention to the last few guests as they filtered in.

Darcy had secured his cousin, Anne de Bourgh, for the opening dances; and as they entered the ballroom together, he was dismayed to see his other cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, was hovering near Elizabeth. He knew Fitz had been promised her first set and was fine with such an arrangement. What he did not like, however, was the army of other red coats and the sea of blue naval uniforms that surrounded them. The officers, all clamouring to be introduced to his Elizabeth, annoyed and agitated him greatly. As they passed through the throng, Darcy heard far too many young men asking acquaintances if they could perform an introduction to the ‘dark-haired beauty with the fine eyes’. Twice he heard ribald commentary on her other strong points, and twice he had to restrain himself from planting some bloke a facer. “Come, Anne, there is someone I would like you to become better acquainted with before we take our places for the first set.”

“Do you mean the ‘dark-haired beauty,’ the ‘lovely lady with fine eyes,’ the ‘tempting armful,’ the ‘sultry siren,’ or the ‘ravishing wench with the ample dairies’?’”

“Anne Catriona de Bourgh! Your mother would be disgusted. By the way, what are you doing in Town? How ever did you escape?”

“I cannot talk of Mother in a ballroom; my head is full of more pleasant things. Let me just say we had another quarrel, I accused her of living in the Middle Ages, she discovered resistance is feudal, and I am now rebelling by staying at Matlock Manor for an undetermined duration. Enough of unpleasantness, tell me about this young lady who is causing such a stir this evening. I assume you are well acquainted with her.”

“I am, indeed, Anne.” Darcy’s face became suffused with pure love and happiness, and his cousin was intrigued.

“By the look of bliss on your face, her name must be Trudy Light.”

“That was truly groan-worthy, Anne. You have already met, and I know you are aware her name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet; however, I fully intend to change it to Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy as soon as may be.”

“Upon my word, Fitzwilliam! Have you actually finally found your ideal woman? You held out for perfection for so long, I despaired you would ever encounter that quintessential lady.”

“I have come to believe in a quote I heard recently but cannot remember the source: ‘Love is not finding a perfect person; it is seeing an imperfect person perfectly’. There she is, Anne, in the yellow dress, the woman who stole my hea … Well, bloody hell! Why is Viscount Chalcroft kissing her hand and leering in that obscene manner?” Darcy pulled his cousin along as he cleared a path toward Miss Elizabeth, and Anne giggled at the image of him as the white knight bent on a rescue. Miss de Bourgh looked down at her own rather prim and proper pastel pink gown and thought, No knight would ever rescue a damsel in dis-dress.

The opening strains of La Belle Assemblée March halted Darcy in his tracks. He was relieved of his rescue duty by Colonel Fitzwilliam who offered Miss Elizabeth his arm and claimed her for the first set. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Anne de Bourgh took their places in line, as did Charles Bingley and Jane Bennet, as well as Ellis Fleming and Georgiana Darcy. As the dance began, Anne was again amused by her usually stodgy cousin’s infatuation with the lady in yellow. His eyes hardly strayed from Elizabeth Bennet’s position in the formation, and he nearly took a wrong turn.

“Fitzwilliam, you will have to do better than that absurd display. Tell me, have you secured Miss Elizabeth for the final set?”

“Hmm? Oh. Yes, I have, as well as for the supper set. Why?” The movements of the dance separated them, and he had to wait for her answer.

Moments later, Anne said, “You do realize the finale will be a waltz, do you not?”

“What? A waltz! Oh, God!” Darcy’s face was positively panic-stricken.

“Cousin, I know you learned the steps. We were instructed together last year, along with Fitz and Georgie.”

“Well, yes. However, I have certainly not practiced since then.” Again they moved apart, and Darcy became annoyed with the separation.

As soon as they were reunited, his cousin sought clarification. “You have never waltzed with a woman, except that one time with me?”

“Of course not, Anne! The shocking waltz is hardly accepted by our society. When or why would I have done so? What on earth were our aunt and uncle thinking by including such an indecent activity? Confound it! Why did my parents not inform me we would be performing that confounding dance?”

“Then, you do not approve of such physical contact, my prim, proper, prudish, and priggish cousin? Do you not wish to hold your Miss Elizabeth Bennet in an embrace, one hand upon her waist, and glide across the floor with her?”

Darcy groaned, “Oh, God, yes!”

“Then I suggest you find yourself a partner and practice before making a spectacle of yourself on the dance floor.”

“Will you help me, Anne? Please … dearest, loveliest, favourite female cousin, Annie.” Darcy gave her his irresistible, smouldering look, which usually worked uncommonly well on members of the opposite sex. In spite of that, his cousin was unaffected and unmoved.

“When? My entire dance card is full, and I even had to turn down numerous requests. So many men, so little time.”

“It must be the lure of Rosings Park. What gentleman in his right mind would want to stand up with such a shrew?”

Miss Anne de Bourgh pinched his arm as she circled; and she reminded Darcy that since he was currently engaged in the activity, he must be quite out of his senses, which, she added, was no surprise to her. When their set ended, he escorted his cousin from the floor and asked if she required refreshment.

“Wine not? Please take your place in the punch-line, Fitzwilliam. But be punch-ual, and do not keep me waiting. I do have a bevy of handsome suitors waiting for the pleasure of my company, you know.” As he walked away, she added, “And find out whether or not the punch contains any alcohol. I will want proof!”

Darcy shook his head, grinned at his cousin’s teasing, and dutifully headed for the punchbowl. He found himself next to Viscount Chalcroft, the ignoble cad who had been leering at Elizabeth. The bloke’s pun-gent cologne and crude remarks made Darcy want to punch the cad in the face; but he thought of the impeccably proper and gentlemanly behaviour of his boxing instructor who said, ‘If a pugilist wants to get married, he will have to worry about the ring’. Thinking of a ring made him think of proposing to Elizabeth; thinking of Elizabeth made him think of the waltz; thinking of the waltz made him panic. He frantically sought Georgiana in the crush of people standing around waiting for the second set, and he finally caught sight of her pale blonde hair and lilac gown. He hurried back to Anne de Bourgh, thrust a cup of punch at her, executed a poor excuse for a bow, and strode over to his sister and her suitor.

“Excuse me, Fleming. May I have a private word with you, Georgie?” The siblings moved away to a corner; and Georgiana was amused when her brother urgently said, “I desperately need a refreshment course, Georgie. Will you assist me?”